Five days.

  Five days under the open sky, without the teachers, without guidance.

  Class 3-C had settled into a routine that was fragile but functional. They moved together, organized themselves under Kaoru’s steady leadership, and found a rhythm in survival. Each morning they walked along the grasslands to collect firewood. Every afternoon, small groups ventured into the nearby forest to forage for wild fruits, edible roots, or anything they could recognize from their limited survival knowledge.

  The river was their lifeline. Water was boiled, and the same rotation system for hygiene continued. Some students had gotten bruises, some scratches, but no one had serious injuries. The grasslands were calm for now, but the tension of being alone in the wild lingered.

  Yet, even in survival, human conflict found a way in.

  Kaoru sat atop a small rise, overlooking the campsite as the students returned from the forest.

  “Kaoru,” Daisuke Rho called, tossing a handful of berries into the storage sacks. “We found a patch of raspberries near the northern edge. Careful, the thorns—”

  “Good. Watch for snakes,” Kaoru interrupted lightly, scanning the forest line. “We stick to what we know. No unnecessary risks.”

  Behind her, Sora Myles and Lina Morwen walked silently, their heads close together. The tension was palpable.

  Kaoru noticed it instantly.

  “…What happened yesterday?” she asked quietly.

  The group froze. Some students lowered their heads, others stiffened.

  It was the incident—a dispute that had begun the day before.

  Earlier, the girls had discovered something missing. One of their personal items—a pair of panties—had disappeared from their personal belongings.

  “I’m telling you, someone took them!” Yumi Calder had shouted, cheeks red with anger. “We didn’t move them anywhere! Someone’s playing a prank!”

  The boys immediately reacted.

  “Are you serious?” Takumi Vale had said, disbelief etched on his face. “You think one of us did that?”

  “Check yourselves!” Jun Arclight snapped. “We didn’t touch your stuff!”

  And check they did. The boys went through each other’s belongings, even their clothing, to prove they had nothing to do with it. The exercise was awkward, embarrassing, and uncomfortable—but the boys were resolute. They hadn’t done it.

  “Nope. Nothing,” Kaito Riven finally said, stepping back. “We’re clean.”

  Yumi glared at the group. “Then who else could it be?”

  The female students began to distance themselves from the boys. Whispered conversations, sidelong glances, avoidance. The boys shrugged—some were irritated, some indifferent—but none made attempts to chase the issue.

  Kaoru had intervened.

  “Enough,” she said firmly, standing between the two groups. The sun reflected off the grasslands, casting long shadows across the tense campsite.

  Kaoru’s voice carried authority. “This… is pointless. Arguing over who did what doesn’t help anyone survive. You need each other. If you don’t stick together, nothing we’ve built these past days matters.”

  Eina Frost looked skeptical. “And they should just accept the accusation?”

  Kaoru’s gaze swept the group. “Not accept it blindly. But trust in your ability to survive together. That’s the only reason we’re still alive. That’s the only reason anyone here has a chance when the teachers don’t return.”

  The students murmured. Some nodded reluctantly. Sora exhaled and muttered something about “still being mad but… yeah, she’s right.”

  That evening, Kaoru organized watch rotations as usual.

  “You two,” she said, pointing to Jun and Daisuke, “first guard. The rest rotate in four-hour intervals.”

  “Got it,” Jun muttered, tossing a stick onto the dying embers of the fire.

  The girls sat together across the campfire, whispering, but the tension between them and the boys remained. They ate quietly, collected extra water, and checked the perimeter.

  Kaoru remained observant, her senses stretched between the forest, the fire, and the students.

  She didn’t notice it then, but one of the girls—Mirei Solas—kept glancing toward the ground, fidgeting with a small cloth tucked in her satchel.

  By the next day, food collection and camp maintenance had become smoother. The students moved like a single organism: girls foraging in groups, boys maintaining the fire and guarding.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Kaoru led two small groups into the forest to locate more fruits and edible roots.

  “This time, stick together,” Kaoru instructed. “No wandering. Eyes open.”

  “Understood,” Lina said softly.

  “Let’s head north,” Kaoru said. The underbrush was thick, but the morning sunlight streaked through the leaves, making the forest glow. Birds chirped in distant branches, and the occasional rustle in the grass kept their senses sharp.

  Sora skipped ahead. “I think I see some berries! Over here!”

  Kaoru followed, cautious. “Check carefully. Some berries look edible but aren’t. Only take what you can identify.”

  The group gathered a modest haul of wild fruits. Kaoru’s sharp eyes also caught small roots along the forest floor. She instructed them to dig carefully, brushing soil aside.

  Meanwhile, in camp, the other students maintained the fire, rationed water, and fortified their tents, following the assignments Kaoru had given.

  Back at the forest clearing, a more delicate tension began to surface.

  “Sora,” Kaoru said quietly, “we need to split the haul fairly. Everyone gets something.”

  Sora frowned. “Yeah, okay.”

  Lina examined the fruits. “I think we have enough for two meals if we ration carefully.”

  Kaoru nodded. “Good. Let’s head back before the sun gets high. The forest will be hotter, and visibility drops.”

  As they exited, Kaoru caught sight of Mirei walking a little behind. Something about her posture seemed… off.

  I’ll deal with it later, Kaoru thought.

  That night, the students rotated watch duties again. The tension between girls and boys persisted, but Kaoru reminded them quietly.

  “Focus on the task. Don’t let yesterday’s argument control today,” she said.

  Riku Han muttered, “It’s hard when they keep glaring.”

  Kaoru’s voice was calm but firm. “Then focus on the watch. Keep your head on the task, not their expressions.”

  It wasn’t until the following morning that the truth emerged.

  Mirei had pulled Kaoru aside near the river while the rest bathed.

  “Kaoru…” Mirei began, voice tight. “I… I need to confess something.”

  Kaoru stopped. “What is it?”

  Mirei took a deep breath, her hands fidgeting with her sleeves. “I took them. The… the panties. I wanted to play a prank yesterday, but I… I feel terrible. I’m sorry to everyone. I didn’t mean for it to cause this tension.”

  Kaoru exhaled slowly. “You understand why the others are upset.”

  “I do,” Mirei whispered. “But I… I just didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t apologize yet because I was afraid.”

  Kaoru nodded. “It’s good that you’re telling me. Now… you’ll need to come clean to the group. They’ll appreciate honesty, even if they’re still upset.”

  Mirei’s shoulders slumped. “I… will.”

  When she returned to camp, Kaoru called everyone together.

  “Yesterday’s incident has a resolution,” Kaoru said. “Mirei took the items. It was meant as a prank, but it went too far. She is apologizing.”

  The girls whispered amongst themselves. Some eyes softened.

  Yumi Calder muttered, “Finally…”

  Sora Myles crossed her arms, shaking her head, but a small smile appeared. “Still… annoying, but at least it’s resolved.”

  The boys barely reacted.

  Kaito shrugged. “We were never going to turn back. Let it go.”

  Jun grinned. “Yeah. Past is past. We’re still here, still alive. Doesn’t matter now.”

  Kaoru looked over the group, satisfied. “Good. Now stick together. That’s the only way we survive.”

  For the rest of day five, the class moved in tandem.

  Some went back into the forest for more roots. Some collected firewood. Others repaired tents. The river was used efficiently—girls and boys took turns washing, while partners kept watch.

  At night, Kaoru walked the perimeter again, observing her students.

  They were tired, a little bruised, but resilient.

  Daisuke nudged Takumi quietly. “Feels weird… they’re actually cooperating now.”

  Takumi smirked. “Better late than never.”

  Kaoru, standing atop the hill, surveyed the grasslands.

  Five days, she thought. No teachers. No one is coming. But we are still here. We survive together.

  The wind moved through the grass.

  And the students, despite all tensions, settled for sleep once more.